


To The Grave With Life Unused

by Anonymous



Series: mcyt fics [1]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: /rp, Afterlife, Angst, Dead TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Dream is not a good person, Gen, Kinda?, March 1 tommyinnit stream spoilers!!, Past Child Abuse, Past manipulation, Spoilers, TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), and u knwo who else ;), ghostinnit, not beta read we die like wilbur soot, phantommy, sobbing as we speak
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:01:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29791614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Tommy goes through the five stages of grief -- of his own death.
Relationships: Jschlatt & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Mexican Dream & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: mcyt fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2189793
Comments: 16
Kudos: 146
Collections: Anonymous





	To The Grave With Life Unused

**Author's Note:**

> spoilers for march 1 tommyinnnit stream!! last warning
> 
> started writing this after i watched his stream and :') pain.
> 
> big thanks and shoutout to [haley](https://twitter.com/BCAsquared?s=20) for helping me come up with this idea!! go check out her and her writing at [blackholeca](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackholeca)
> 
> can be read as a oneshot but i plan on writing more

_“Okay.”_

Tommy… can't breathe. Or, perhaps can't isn't the right word, but instead, _doesn't need to._

Air isn't flowing through his lungs. There is no inhale or exhale. Everything just seems… frozen.

In the absence of life, there should be death. That's how the world works, isn't it? But instead, all Tommy sees, hears, _feels,_ is cold. 

It's cold.

The thought provokes Tommy into opening his eyes. When did he ever shut them? What was he even doing before all this? He can't quite seem to remember.

All he can see is just… grass. And not the type of grass that would make Tubbo laugh as they sit upon it and argue over how to pronounce the word. It's just an endless sea of green, poking against his legs and palms, and it's with that realization that Tommy even notices that he's sitting up, staring at the ground.

“What the fuck?” He whispers, and he's just so damn _unsure._ Where is he? How did he get here? Why is he here? Where is everyone _fucking else?_

He kind of wants to cry, wants to scream and shout, but the sea of grass waves by, brushing against his legs, and suddenly his sadness evaporates off of his skin, and the sky- already a deep blue- turns just a bit darker.

He rests his head down on the grass. It isn't soft, but it isn't itchy either. It's odd, almost unreal. He closes his eyes.

“Ay, Big Man! Whatchya doing all the way down here?”

Tommy jolts up, and hits his head _hard_ on a tough plastic mask. He scrambles away-

_I just wanted to bring the server together -_

_You're stuck in here with me, for a little bit -_

_Have it be… -_

_There's no way out -_

_A happy family. --_

Tommy chokes back a scream, eyes blown wide and heart pumping, and holy shit Dream had- he'd-

Was Tommy-?

“Big T! What're you so antsy about? Chill out, man.”

His eyes shoot upwards, the sky deepens, and his brain finally processes that no, it's not dream, the mask belongs to-

“MD?” Tommy asks, and stares up at Mexican Dream. The man puts his hands on his hips and leans over Tommy, casting a shadow. His face is hidden behind that stupid mask, but his posture shows nothing but relaxed contentedness. 

“Tomás, what are you doing sitting on the floor?” MD asks again, and Tommy slowly comes to his senses. “I,” he starts, and he's unsure. Again. (Again?) “I don't know. What else is there to do?”

Mexican Dream laughs, and Tommy can't help but note that this man is so much _different_ than his namesake. Their personalities are polar opposites, obviously, but the way they hold themselves as well. MD was always slouched and letting himself go loose and relaxed, while Dream had never settled for anything less than perfection. 

Tommy had always kind of liked MD better, too. 

“C’mon, man! Follow me, I’ll bring you to the others.”

Standing up, Tommy does just so, and his brain scrambles as the terrain seems to just… _shift_ right in front of his eyes. In the distance, a caravan appears, parked alongside a lake. There's a maximum of three trees, and a wall with a giant picture of MD’s friends.

It's the shittiest combination Tommy has ever seen.

As they approach, Tommy hears more noises- voices, more like. A high pitched drawl, a rough snark. A meow and a bleat and a moo.

The last two get his attention, and he finally looks and sees Mushroom Henry, sitting down on the grass, and Clarencio next to him.

Mushroom… Henry. 

He smiles, but it's tight and hesitant and he doesn't know why. His cow is here! Shouldn't he be happy?

“Hey guys! Guess who I found sittin’ on the ground like an idiot. The big man himself!” Mexican Dream calls, and then figures- human, this time- register in Tommy’s mind.

Was that fucking… _Fucking_ _Schlatt?_

Sitting in a lawn chair with a beer in hand is J- _fucking_ -Schlatt himself, lamb chops neat and distinguishable even at the distance. Next to him, leaning against the caravan is Mamacita, blond hair pulled up in a high bun, and mask tilted against her head as she sips from a can. Tommy doesn't even know what to think.

Mexican Dream urges him forward, and Tommy can do nothing but comply, mind racing and thoughts surging and dissipating in the same breath. What the hell is going on with him?

“Hey, Tommy.” Mamacita calls out, giving a polite nod. She kisses MD when he comes up to her and wraps his arm around her. He's almost comically shorter than her, considering her two inch heels and tall stature.

Schlatt doesn't acknowledge him in the slightest. Instead, the man stares off at the lake, almost frozen, if not for the slow blinking of his eyes.

These people… They all have something in common, and Tommy _knows it,_ except that he _doesn't_ and it's fucking irritating the shit out of him that he can't seem to recall just _what_ is so off about this whole scenario.

_“Okay…”_

The word rings in his ears, and there's something that finishes the sentence, he knows it. But what? Jesus fucking christ, _what?_

But then he looks closer. JSchlatt has blue fingers and a pinched face. Mexican Dream has a proud stab wound through his chest. Mamacita has explosion burns along her side.

Tommy looks down, very hesitantly.

Black and blue creep up from his collar, and when he lifts up his shirt to see his torso, there is no pale skin, only purple and black and _bruises and-_

_“Why don't you go see him in person-”_

Nothing.

Schlatt’s eyes flicker up to meet Tommy’s, and there's a look of understanding that passes through. Tommy never thought he'd ever sympathize with his best friend's executioner, but…

“Look pretty rough there, twerp.” Schlatt’s murmur crosses the grass and hits Tommy straight in the chest, and it's all he needs to jerk out of whatever daze he was previously in.

He storms up to the man sitting so fucking pretentiously on the stupid fucking lawn chair, and he's _angry._

(He's scared.)

“What the fuck is this! Schlatt you're fucking-” he looks around. Mushroom Henry and Clarencio and goddamn Pusboy. “You're all fucking dead! What am I, hallucinating? Answer me, goddammit!”

Mexican Dream and Mamacita look over with a certain look in their eyes, almost pity, almost sadness, but then they're soon back to snogging each other like a bunch of hormonal teenagers.

He doesn't need them. He just needs this goddamn _coward_ of a man to answer him, and why the fuck did his brain come up with this whack ass imagination? With those two masked weirdos, of all people?

Schlatt just sighs heavily, the right bastard, and turns his gaze back to the lake. The water barely ripples, and there's maybe one fish in total underneath the surface, and it makes Tommy even angrier.

(Even more frightened. Why is he here?)

...

(Deep inside, he knows why.)

“Welcome to this shitshow of an afterlife, TommyInnit.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!


End file.
